


Co-Dependency

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Chara, Agender Frisk, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Nonbinary Frisk, Post-No Mercy Route, References to No Mercy Route, Soul Selling, Spoilers - No Mercy Route, Unhealthy Relationships, nonbinary chara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These short stories are set in a post-SOUL-selling route, wherein Chara is forcing Frisk to replay the events of Undertale time and time again. They are messing with the mechanics of the game- for example, Frisk being on a True Pacifist Route, but still running into Undyne the Undying in battle. They have Frisk's SOUL, and have managed to convince them (after nearly a hundred RESETs) to re-start their slaughter. Frisk, desperate for love and affection, has fallen prey to Chara's psychological abuse: 'love' in exchange for murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this is just extremely vague porn.

“Please-”

 

They could see their breath in the air. The soft, puffy vapor of their own oxygen being expelled, changed, twisting into something else. Twisting the same way their fingers twisted into dark, straight hair, wild hair, beautiful hair. Their eyes were wide, dark, blown- and the blood on their lip was coating their tongue in such a way that they tasted nothing but copper and desire.

 

“Please, Chara,”

 

“Tell me what you are, Frisk.”

 

“Wh-wha---?”

 

“Go on.” their nails dragged down the fragile skin of their side. They yelped. Claws sheering the wool of the sheep, the wolf digging into the meat and tearing out the organs of a killer to expose them to the world under the guise of doing everyone a favor. Then again, a god owed their people nothing; for it was their own hand that created and destroyed at will. So perhaps this deity was simply opening them up for _fun._

 

“I...I don't know what you mean, I-”

 

There is a sharp, stinging pain, overcome by a pinprick of pleasure that turns into a total throb of ecstasy, and the sound that comes from their own throat is guttural, animal, wholly inhuman. They now know what Chara means.

 

“I'm- yours-”

 

“My _what?_ ”

 

“Your – soldier, your hunter, your – _yes!_ ”

 

They have been so good at keeping their words strictly to what Chara asks them to say, but one shift in their fingers sends that plan reeling. They arch their body up starting from the hips and working up to the chest until they fruitlessly try again to kiss the being that is the center for both pleasure and pain, for salvation and damnation. They are trying to kiss the world and the world is grinning that beautiful, massive smile, that stretches all the way from Canada to Russia.

 

“Now, now. Do not be greedy. I will give you everything you need, Frisk. You must have _patience-_ ” there is a sharp, thin cut that joins seven on their stomach. They whine, but it turns into the tail end of a moan when Chara's lips cover it. “I know what is best. I know how to make you feel good. Do you not _trust me?_ My _judgement?_ ”

 

“No!” There is the sudden removal of Chara's body completely. Their god is hovering over them, withdrawn wholly. There is no point of contact. They become wide-eyed and terrified and desperate in a new way. They reach out longingly, but their fingers phase right through. Chara is still fully clothed, but there is no cloth to touch.

 

“No, _what?_ ” The words are venom. They drink it anyway.

 

“No, I- I trust you, your judgment, your- your- everything! I love you, please, don't stop, don't leave me, _please don't-_ ”

 

“...Why, Frisk. Of course I will not leave. Do you really think I could, I would? You are everything to me. You are the only thing left of this world that I adore. You mean more to me than anything.”

 

They look astounded despite the fact that they have heard these words, and similar, all before. They swallow and lick their lips and try to breathe again. They feel warm all over and their heart is racing. Their general looks down upon them and that smile splits their face again.

 

“You may touch yourself, if you like. You seem so … _desperate._ You can hardly focus in a condition like that.”

 

Tentatively, they do what they are asked, but they are clearly nervous; shy, uncertain. It does not feel good in the way that Chara always makes them feel good. Silence reigns for too long and they are about to stop and say they do not feel like it anymore, but there's a voice that slices through their mind as sharp as the knife that's placed so tenderly down, cool flat metal to skin, on their cheek. Chara is inches from their face and their forehead slowly bumps into the other's and the eye-contact is so ferocious and strong that they almost tremble beneath the power of it.

 

' _You are my favorite. You are the only living thing in this world that I love. I am always with you, even when you cannot see me. I love you when you are small and meek. I love you when you are proud and strong. I love you covered in dust and I love you covered in flowers, at the end and at the beginning._ '

 

They find it easy to touch themselves again. They stare and they frantically gasp but they do not dare writhe or move. They try very hard to remain wholly still as Chara looks at them and whispers into their mind. Nothing is more euphoric than being loved. _Nothing._

 

_'You are mine and mine alone. Do not forget, my beautiful hunter. Do not underestimate our bond. Your SOUL is mine, your devotion is mine. You belong to me. You are my perfect warrior, the only reason I keep this universe alive. Truly, Frisk, you are the sun. Everything orbits around you. I spin every planet-'_

 

“Chara-”

 

_'I orchestrate every movement, I set every stage, I animate all of the puppets-'_

 

“Chara-! I---”

 

_'For you. All for you, Frisk.'_

 

“Please, please, say- say-”

 

_'Say that I need you? I will not. I do not need you. I am a God among monsters, I need nothing and nobody now. No, I do not need you, Frisk. But that is, perhaps, the best part about this.'_

 

They look confused, through their haze. Chara is smiling so wide that they shiver and they pause their own, pleasurable movements to ask a question that doesn't leave their lips. The simple, soft, smooth touch of Chara's to their own- the imitation of a kiss- stops them. They do not even get to pucker up. Chara doesn't either. After a moment, breathing directly into the parted lips of their pawn in this massive chess game worth a timeline, they speak aloud again.

 

“I do not need you. I choose you anyway. I want you.”

 

They have never experienced a euphoria that wracks both body and mind, but Chara blesses them with it just then, and in moments they are dizzy with the aftershocks.

 

Chara is still smiling.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is just even more extremely vague porn.

This time they're almost positive: Chara started it.

 

The touch of their god's fingertips up their spine, slow and smooth and soft, 'walking' one digit after another; it's a light but present weight, and there is no way Chara thought that they wouldn't feel it. They weren't able to disguise 'fake' sleep from their keeper, their mind was active in a way that Chara could always sense when they were conscious. Thus, napping in Home once again, the red-eyed love of the century, that ruby among amber, had purposefully been touching them.

 

They delighted in the idea that Chara meant to lean in close to the back of their neck and kiss the top of their spine, drag their lips from side to side of it, brush along it with their lips like they were dusting off the skin. They undoubtedly moved closer, at that point, and there was no question that their whole front was pressed tightly against Frisk's back after a few agonizingly slow seconds had passed.

 

Frisk shifted despite their better judgment, getting more comfortable, and Chara seemed to let go a little.

 

“Did I wake you? I am sorry, Frisk.”

 

“No, no, I'm awake...it's okay...”

 

But of course, Chara already _knew that,_ didn't they?

 

It made Frisk smile, secret and slight, as they opened their eyes and saw nothing ahead of them but darkness. They were still exactly where they'd fallen asleep, yes, but Toriel had turned off the light, and then Chara had turned off the world, and nothing mattered anymore but that bed and that being nestled on it behind them.

 

Silence moved in like Chara's arms, tightening their hold around Frisk's stomach and making it cartwheel. Their eyelids drooped as they felt the fluttering of long, soft lashes against the side of their neck, butterfly kisses settling on them and their whole body tensing in the best of ways as they waited with baited breath for what would happen next.

 

Chara's lips progressed the motions, pressing over the shell of Frisk's ear, making them part their own lips and get ready to let out a contented sigh, when all of the sudden Chara was speaking. Frisk's inhale was caught right up in their throat and they held their breath as their god spoke into their ear, against it, around it.

 

“You are aware that you are terrible, are you not?”

 

They could not exhale.

 

“You are a killer, Frisk. A murderer. A true, despicable creature who enjoys the suffering of others. You are selfish, and cruel, and-”

 

The exhale escaped, but seemed to become a sob. This caused Chara's lips to pause in their attempts to communicate, and they placed little kisses against their temple and the back of their head while making soft shushing noises. Frisk could not shush. They could not even breathe right. They were crying, and everything burned and hurt, and they wanted...for just a moment, to escape.

 

“Oh, no, no- Frisk, do not cry. It is alright. You have all that you need here, you know. All of those things are true, but...”

 

But what? But _what?_ There was nothing to 'but' about! Chara thought they were ugly, awful, rotten, irredeemable, and they were! They were a murderer, a killer, a creature of cruelty and selfishness and pain and-

 

“You see, _I_ love you.”

 

Perhaps their confusion about this statement made by their god and their ruler was plain in their body language, even if Chara could not see their face. Chara smiled and Frisk only knew because they could hear it in their voice.

 

“Who else could? Truly, nobody. You have done unforgivable things. But with me? Oh, with me, my good little soldier, my perfect hunter- I see all that you are and _celebrate_ it. You are beautiful in your terrible nature. It is not your fault. You did truly put up quite a fuss against it, but here we are- and here we will stay. Together. Is that not what you want?”

 

Their hands had slithered beneath their shirt, stroking smooth and slow circles along their bare stomach. Frisk felt something warm grow within them as the tears became cold, and stopped flowing altogether. They hiccuped and Chara chuckled low against their neck. Kisses punctuated every verbal comma.

 

“I am all that you have left. I am the only one who could love you. I love the parts of you that nobody else could stomach. You will always have a friend in _me_ , Frisk. I have always been your last chance at love.”

 

Their fingers are lower than Frisk's stomach and there is a lot of movement, but it's all so slow and agonizing and nothing but silence accompanies the next few minutes. Frisk writhes, Chara smiles, the world is fuzzy- or what they can both see of it now. But just before it all goes white, just before Frisk can hold tightly to the sheets and shout and be free of the tension building over time, they are brought down hard. Chara's movements stop. Their words pick up the slack.

 

“Remember that when you are speaking to anyone else. No matter what they say, they do not know all you have done, and if they did? They would never love you. Not like I can. Not like I _do.”_

 

Frisk is breathing so hard it hurts their lungs. They nod.

 

“You are the reason the world here exists. I love every single part of you, down to the bone and marrow. Tell me, Frisk; who could ever love the beast you are?”

 

There is movement between Frisk's thighs again, it is rough, it almost hurts- but they are so astounded by the feelings and their sharp, sudden start, that they scream the name when their vision fails them.

 

“ _Chara!”_

 

And afterwards, rolling over to face their lover, Frisk cannot hold tight enough to the god that gave them life and can give them death and chooses to give them love instead of either one.

 


End file.
